


Nothing

by helena_s_renn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Apathy, Depression, Emotional Numbness, Fake It Till You Make It, Falling Out of Love, Multi, Polyamory, Vague anger, arrogance as a coping mechanism, talking in circles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From one day to the next, things have changed for Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> As always with RPS, this fic has nothing to do with the real people listed as "characters". This author does not know them, has never met them, and has no knowledge of their actual personal lives. 
> 
> This is what depression feels like to me. Like nothingness. So this work might be as much commentary as fic. 
> 
> Warning for possible triggers for/of similar feelings or lack there-of (see tags). Or it might just piss you off.

Once upon a time, a boy named Jared fell in love with a boy named Jensen, the end. 

...

It wasn't the end. That happened much later, but the end, when it came, didn't make Jared sick, sad or angry. Well, maybe a little bit angry because what about him wasn't worth it to Jensen. No, that wasn't fair. There'd been no falling out. He loved the man, god knew he did. One day he looked at him and just... nothing. Well, friendship. History. Brotherhood. Could he even claim such a thing now, considering? Respect, sure, as a fellow human being, fellow actor, fellow father. In love anymore? No. 

...

A piece of Jared's self fell away with that, a portion of his foundation cracked and fractured, sliding inappreciably away into minutely settling dust. Retreating from every facet of his life but his immediate nuclear family, Jared felt... nothing. A significant if intangible part of himself missing and he couldn't bring himself to do more than back into the shadows, trying in vain to mourn what was not. He knew he was supposed to go through some sort of a grieving period. 

When Jensen tweeted, "Brother, get better," from across the miles, he felt nothing. So much nothing. Not because Jensen was anything less than sincere: the words made impact against the shell enclosing Jared and nothing more, pinging hollowly.

He let Gen comfort him at night or in the early mornings. If she wondered why, why now, she never said. Guilt that should've manifested remained dormant. It wasn't as if Jared couldn't or wouldn't fuck his own wife. His dick still worked, amazingly enough. She loved him more than his unavailable ass deserved. A constant glowing ember. He supposed. He was gentle with her, holding back, shaking through till the final thrust, anything to leave other memories buried. 

Jared didn't know what had happened to make his and Jensen's fiery conflagration be doused into flaky ashes and sour soot. Not even that, just nothing. Nothing. Bare rock and barren soil, skeletons of once-lush flora soon buried by encroaching desert. Something had flipped a switch in his head. It was too much effort to even try to understand. 

Apathetic, he made the conscious choice for the sake of his livelihood to continue on with SPN, to fake their famous chemistry while casually extracting himself from the 'family' and by the same token, from Jensen's sphere. It wouldn't be so easy for the actor formerly known as "Mr. Fanservice" but those faceless faces, they would respect the diagnosis. 

Only thought of Jensen crying over the loss of him provoked any emotion whatsoever. Not sympathy or empathy, more like a faint gloating, to think that Jensen got his just desserts. Only, that would mean that Jared was either a sociopath or he was actually bothered by how, from one day to the next, all of the love and lust and heat within him for Jensen withered under killing frost. Maybe he felt a slight sting of shame for not noticing before it eroded and not analyzing, not acting or finding some way to keep their bond. 

But only slight. And he wasn't admitting it. 

The one thing he'd never do again was touch the man in any sexual way, not for pleasure or simple release, certainly not for the notion of love that now he wasn't so sure had ever really existed. They'd become so habitual anyway. It had started like the sweetest adrenaline rush; the last few times it had been all so... habitual. How and where to touch - or more like where and how not to; what words to say, when to apply pressure and speed... Their choreographed, well-rehearsed two-backed beast might to some have been a miracle, a blessing. Jared was just bored. And too apathetic to open his mouth other than when he did his due diligence on his knees and he'd had enough of the taste of that. 

A lesser man may have decided to keep his piece on the side. To Jared, with desire gone, there was no point. He respected Jensen that much at least, to not make a scene or demand a renegotiation and for what? 

...

Yeah, being in love was for kids. Jared's time for that had passed him by. It wasn't in him anymore. The only thing he really dreaded were the Cons, and he had the perfect excuse. 

Wasn't much he could do besides let it be. He wasn't suicidal, after all.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Indifferent? Let me know why.
> 
> Thanks to those who left comments and kudos. Truly.


End file.
